Once and Always (Women of Character) Read Online Free PDF Page A

"I'm sure you'll want to put your own
things in here." She lifted her chin. "Besides, I think it's best if
we keep our private lives separate. The house will be yours for the term of the
lease."
    Tyler nodded. "You're
right," he said briskly. "If you're willing, I want to sign the lease
this week. Have you thought about my suggestion to work together? Maybe you'd
consider reentering the show arena."
    The sudden shadows in the room
gave her face a vulnerable cast as she circled the room restlessly.
Unexpectedly, she stepped close, showing him the scarred side of her face.
"Reenter the show arena? Look at me. My face colors every decision I make.
How often I go to town for groceries, how badly I want to see a movie. I can't
even tell you the last time I went to have my hair cut." She turned away
and gave a hollow laugh. "Hell, I've been cutting it myself. Imagine me
going into the beauty center for my monthly facial. Mary Sue would cringe if I
showed up now."
    "Did that happen?" There
was nothing he could do to ease the pain of such an experience.
    She looked at him incredulously.
"No, but only because I was smart enough not to test my own theory. I've
seen enough startled reactions that I'd never ask someone to touch my face.
Look at your reaction today. That's mild in comparison to some." She
looked away.
    What could he tell her? He didn't
know what she'd gone through, but it bothered him that she'd been hurt by
other's reactions. "I was taken by surprise to see you had been hurt and I
never knew. I admit I was shaken." In some way, those feelings were
connected to the way he used to feel about her.
    "My point is I don't know if
I'll ever have the guts to work around the public again." She clenched her
jaw. "The scarring is the first thing people see. They can't help it. They
stare and I'm damned sensitive about their curiosity."
    "People's curiosity or
rudeness doesn't make you less of a person. You're a good rider, that's what
should matter. What I want you to contribute is your riding skills."
    "But one goes with the other
and I'm afraid my scars will override any skills I have. It's
unavoidable." Annie rolled her eyes and gave him a cynical look. "Put
bluntly, people may recall my barrel racing wins, but they'll be more curious
about my scarring. I know. It's been two years, but those reactions still hurt.
Yes, it might be self-pity, but I don't care." She took a turn around the
room, her pacing reminding him of an animal in captivity.
    "You mentioned you wear
makeup sometimes." Tyler wanted to soothe her, but he kept his fists in
his pockets, wondering where those thoughts came from. A residue of old
feelings? "You can't hide the rest of your life."
    Annie's face turned pasty white,
her greenish-hazel eyes dark in her face. "I know that! And you can keep
your opinions to yourself. You've been gone a long time, you don't know
anything!"
    Tyler decided to try another tact.
"Can you deny that the idea of being in the thick of things once more
stirs your blood? I could see it in your face when I first mentioned it. You
can be instrumental in bringing the ranch back to the way it used to be."
    "It's not that simple."
She looked away from him, biting her lip, obviously torn. "Make no
mistake, what you want to do is incredibly important and exciting to me. I'd
love to be a part of it, but beyond the initial excitement―" She
turned away, her voice muffled. "― I'm not the same person."
    Annie's admission laid her
vulnerability bare, underlining his ignorance regarding her suffering. She'd
made the omission, but he knew she'd only go so far in telling him anything
right now. Tyler stifled his impatience. He wanted to know everything about
her, what had occurred in the intervening years, but also knew that the telling
would come at a cost to Annie, and to him.
    Ω
    Anna turned back to Tyler when he
remained silent. He lifted one brow and the dark hair fell over his forehead,
just like it always had. A dark sensuality enveloped